Jumpers for Goats
by Marauder
Summary: Aberforth Dumbledore may not have asked for Elphias Doge to come into his life, but family ties are family ties, official or not. Albus x Elphias, focus on the relationship between Aberforth and Elphias.


**Part One**

**1899-1900**

"I'm learning how to knit," Elphias said. Aberforth snorted. "Fine, if you think it's too effeminate, you won't get a new jumper for Christmas and you can go on wearing that brown thing that's coming undone at the sleeves. It's less expensive to make jumpers yourself than it is to buy them."

"Haven't you got your own house?" Aberforth said. "How long are you staying here? Can't you go bother someone else?"

"And let you and Albus fight every second? I don't think so. Now either go away or pass me that skein of wool on the chair."

When Aberforth came home for Christmas, Albus and Elphias were sleeping in the same bed and it didn't look as though Elphias were going to leave anytime soon. Aberforth didn't get a jumper for Christmas, although when he went outside he saw the five goats happily snuggled together in their shed, wearing lumpy jumpers of crimson, yellow, lavender, turquoise, and black. He came inside and found Albus kissing Elphias on the davenport. Everyone else, it seemed, had someone to be close to.

* * *

Eventually Aberforth did get a jumper. He came home for the summer and woke up the next morning to discover that he had turned green; Elphias declared it to be dragon pox and kept him quarantined in his room. At first Elphias was willing to bring a goat or two inside to keep Aberforth company, but he changed his mind when one of them forgot it was housebroken. 

"The other ones won't," Aberforth insisted. "That one's younger, he's not as well-trained."

"Perhaps they can prove it some other time," Elphias said. "I'll stay in here with you if you want me to. I've already had dragon pox, I can't get it again. You're not scratching, are you?"

"No," said Aberforth, who suddenly wanted to scratch.

Elphias stayed in Aberforth's room and had him help wind wool into balls while Elphias talked about his and Albus's boring friends and what boring things they were doing with other boring people. Eventually he left to go research for his boring book and Aberforth sighed with relief.

"Here, I made this for you," said Elphias four days later, putting a red jumper around Aberforth's shoulders. Aberforth was too tired to shake it off. "You'll be getting to the cold sweat phase of the illness tomorrow or the next day."

"How is he?" he heard Albus ask once Elphias had gone into the corridor and shut the door behind him.

"Still green," Elphias said. "Perhaps a little sullen. Come here and give me a kiss."

Aberforth rolled his eyes and pulled the blankets over his head.

* * *

Aberforth had just barely recovered when Albus came down with dragon pox as well. He had an enormous pockmark on the end of his nose, which made Aberforth want to laugh every time he looked at it. 

"Doge says you've got to drink all of this," he said, setting down the goblet on Albus's nightstand with an unceremonious _thunk_.

"I wish you'd call him Elphias," Albus said, sitting up and reaching for it.

"Yeah, well, I wish a lot of things," said Aberforth. "But I don't have them, do I?"

Albus spent a lot of time sleeping, while Elphias knitted a new blanket for their bed in the evenings. "Do you want to come home for Easter this year?" he asked Aberforth as he counted stitches. "You can bring a friend with you if you want." Aberforth shrugged. Elphias looked at him closely. "I wouldn't have to sleep in Albus's room while he was visiting."

"You don't have to sleep in Albus's room at all," Aberforth muttered before he could stop himself.

There was a moment's pause. "You're right," Elphias said. "I don't have to, but I do."

"Did he even ask you to move in here? Does he even want you here? Did anyone even ask you to do any of this?"

"I seem to remember having a similar conversation last summer," said Elphias. "You know, Aberforth, you're Albus's brother and I love you, but sometimes you give me such a headache."

"Don't bother," said Aberforth, getting up from his chair and walking out of the room.

**Part Two**

**2000**

"Thought you'd want to see her," said Aberforth, setting the little goat down on Elphias's lap. Elphias rested one trembling hand on her back. "I found your notes for making goat jumpers in a box with all of those old knitting patterns Albus gave you. Figuring out how to make a goat nappy, though, that was hard."

Elphias smiled, one corner of his mouth jerking upwards. The sun was coming in through the window; Aberforth turned the chair a few degrees to the left to keep the light out of Elphias's eyes. "Remember the goat in the turquoise jumper? That I had back when you first moved in with us? This one's her great-great-something-great granddaughter. And no, that wasn't the goat you had to bail me out over. Stop looking at me like that."

The little goat's jumper was dark green. She bleated happily and butted her head against the crook of Elphias's arm; some witches a few tables away smiled. "You've got a letter," said Aberforth, sitting down on one of the benches. "It's from someone called Antinuous Whitby. He wants to know if he can write a new introduction to _Muggle-Related Law, 1714-1859_." Elphias vigorously jerked his head back and forth. "All right, I'll tell him. He sounded like a bit of a prat, if you ask me."

Elphias groped around in the bag he kept attached to the side of his wheelchair and took out his slate and piece of chalk. After several minutes of shaky writing he turned it in Aberforth's direction. _Horrible scholar. If he asks for anything else don't give it to him._

"Is he your brother?" asked a little boy who was sitting by himself at the next table.

"Brother-in-law. Well, without the actual 'law' part."

"What's wrong with him?"

"He had a stroke." Aberforth put Elphias's slate back in the bag and turned to look at the boy. "What's wrong with you? Does your mother know that you're in a pub at half past ten in the morning being rude to strangers? What are you, some kind of child alcoholic?"

"She's down the street buying Christmas presents for my sister," said the boy, kicking his feet against the leg of the table. "It's boring."

"Go find her and help her pick out presents," said Aberforth. "Go on, get out of here."

"I don't want to. I hate my sister, she's probably going to get more presents than me, she does every single year."

"Be glad you've got a sister," said Aberforth. "Now get out of here or I'll feed you to my goats. Don't let this one fool you, the rest of them are mean and hungry."

The little boy reluctantly slid off his bench and headed for the door.

"Rotten little bugger," said Aberforth to Elphias. "And don't try telling me I was just as bad, because I wasn't."

The corner of Elphias's mouth twitched again.

"I thought maybe tomorrow I'd close the place for a few hours and take you to visit Albus's grave."

Elphias reached for the slate again. _You don't really want to go._

"Not really, but I thought you might." Elphias nodded. "All right, I'll take you. I'll even get you one of those stupid wreaths to put on it if you want one."

* * *

Elphias took a nap at around one o'clock; shortly afterwards Mundungus Fletcher stumbled in, bleary-eyed and unshaven. "Get me some firewhiskey, Ab," he muttered, collapsing on one of the stools. "Get me the whole bloody bottle." 

"You still owe me money," said Aberforth. "Tell you what, I'll give you your firewhiskey if you show up here tomorrow morning with that flying carpet you bought from Ali Bashir. You've got no idea how hard it is to travel with a man in a wheelchair. Floo powder'll knock him out of the chair, it takes forever to load him up on the Knight Bus, and there's no way in hell I'm letting him apparate when he doesn't always connect the fork to his mouth."

"Go on," said Mundungus. "You're past a 'undred, he's older. Put 'im in St. Mungo's."

"I can't," Aberforth said gruffly. "You can't just stick your family somewhere when you don't want to bother with them."

"He ain't your family, he's the bloke who used to get off wi' your brother."

"I owe him," said Aberforth. "You want to know how much I owe him, off the top of my head? I owe him something like a hundred Galleons in bail money, more than a thousand in Christmas presents, maybe three months' rent from that time I lost the lease on this place, more than I want to think of in hot food – he used to feed my goats when I was at school. I nearly got expelled from Hogwarts in seventh year, he convinced them to keep me. He lived with Albus for nearly a hundred years, I can't just get rid of him. Plus he's nice to the goats. He's not _bad_, really. Worshipped Albus like God and couldn't stay out of my business back when his health was good, but I'm used to him. You wouldn't get it, you sell people out the minute they're no good to you."

"Speakin' of sellin'," said Mundungus, "if I don't get some firewhiskey I'll – "

"What, steal some out of the back of Rosmerta's because she won't let you in anymore? Fine, go on, take it. If that carpet isn't here tomorrow by noon I won't let you in anymore either and you can drink from a sewer for all I care."

* * *

Every night after dinner Elphias sat by the fire holding his rosary, his fingers moving from bead to bead. His prayers were slurred and whispered. Ariana, in her portrait, closed her eyes and smiled to herself. 

"The wreath was all right?" Aberforth asked when Elphias had finished. Elphias nodded. "I figured, you know, Albus wore purple a lot, I'd go for the one with the purple ribbon."

Before they went to bed, Elphias had his bath. Their odd, modest ritual required that Aberforth lift Elphias from his chair and set him down in the dry bathtub, fully clothed. When Aberforth left and closed the door behind him Elphias undressed and started the water; when he was finished with his bath he managed to dry himself and put on his undergarments before leaning over to knock on the door for Aberforth. He had always been like that, Aberforth thought as he helped Elphias into his nightshirt. In the years that Elphias had lived with him and Albus, Aberforth had only heard one intimate sound at night, followed by a murmured, "Albus, Aberforth will hear you," and a silencing charm.

"You have an appointment at St. Mungo's on Thursday," Aberforth said, setting Elphias down on his bed. They shared the only bedroom. "I think they just want to see how you're coming along. Not too cold in here for you?"

Elphias shook his head.

"Can I put the light out right away?"

Elphias nodded, and then shook his head, the damp cloud of white hair moving from side to side.

"Why, what do you want?" A writing motion. "The slate?" He went and got it from the wheelchair and set it on Elphias's lap.

The tremulous movement of the chalk continued for a few minutes. Just when Aberforth was tempted to ask if it were really that important, Elphias finished and handed him the slate.

_Did anyone even ask you to do any of this?_

"You know, Elphias," said Aberforth, whose memory was just as good, "you're Albus's man and I love you, but sometimes you give me such a headache. And yes, I'm going to bother. Good night." He put the slate on the table between the beds and blew out the candle.


End file.
